There was a flash of a white handkerchief in his hand.
"Is — that — so?"
"I am afraid you cannot refuse. I must tie this over your eyes, and you must not make me be violent about it, because I do not like being violent."
She waited. The blur of white moved towards her, and she felt the soft caress of silk on her face. And then she twitched her automatic from its holster and rammed it into the man's ribs.
"You're moving too fast, Duodecimo," she said softly. "Think again — and think quickly!"
The Italian continued imperturbably with his task.
"I'll count three," she rapped. "You can start saying your prayers now. One—"
"And then the car stop, the police come, and you are arresting," he replied calmly. "But do not trouble, Mees Trelawney, I have already unloaded your gun."
She realized that the car had stopped, and could have wept with rage against herself.
"Will you get out?"